Chapter 28 Midnights like This
Chapter twenty-eight
Midnights like This
In the days when carriages turned to pumpkins and mice whispered secrets, there lived a girl who never believed in fairy godmothers.
-Tales from Meridea, Volume III
“She did not replace all the oil with vinegar!” Ira said, laughing hard enough that it came out fractured.
Luci nodded, covering her mouth as she fought to keep her breath.
“She did, I swear it. She was so mad that Lady Margaret was moving into Blythe that she thought if she ruined the cake, she might leave.”
“What happened? Did they serve it?” he asked, face red.
“Of course not. One thing about Archie is that he will never send anything out that he doesn’t test. Of course, Brielle didn’t know that, so when Lady Margaret ate and complimented the cake, Brielle was convinced she was a witch for at least a fortnight.”
Luci was learning many things about herself, and though the wine had long worn off and she was two glasses of water sober, she knew she loved being the reason he laughed. Especially when he laughed hard enough that he fought to catch his breath.
“That is now my favorite story,” he said.
“She may look sweet and innocent, but more often than not it’s her plots that cause the most trouble,” Luci said.
Nodding, Ira lifted his glass of water up before taking a sip.
“I think I can attest to that as well,” he said.
She supposed he could, given that he was at the center of her latest one.
Yet there was no bitterness or anger in his words, just a casual fact.
Most people would not have appreciated being tricked, but then Ira wasn’t most people.
In fact, he was more of the all's well that ends well mindset, which was hard for Luci to wrap her mind around.
The dining room was long emptied of people, and it was now just them; even Calcifer and Cochran were tucked into bed together.
“I feel bad taking Cal from Cochran. They are a cute pair, but Brielle might actually kill me if I don’t bring him home.” Luci said.
“Maybe we can arrange for him to visit from time to time. He’s a good kid, and it might be good for Max.”
Ira’s lips pressed together as he tapped the table with one finger, his mind working through the possibilities.
“Max is a good kid, too. Lucien, on the other hand,” Luci said.
Ira gave a small snort, still tapping. For a moment, Luci could see the weight on his shoulders that he carried for his family. His worry for Max and his love for all of them.
"Lucien has always been a little lost. Gladys is second born, and so much of her time is spent learning how to rule in case something happens to me. Besides that, she has her art and charity work to fulfill her. Max has his stories- excuse me, history, and Lucien never really been sure where he fits into everything. When he was younger, he was of the mind that if he was crueler than everyone else, it would shield him. I can’t say he doesn’t slip back into that sometimes, but he’s trying. ” Ira said.
“And Brielle is going to fix him?” Luci asked, slightly irritated.
Ira shrugged. “I don’t know, but if anyone could, it would be her.”
Luci wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Now that they had the flower, she wanted more from life for Brielle than fixing a damaged prince, but it wasn’t hers to choose. Brielle was always in charge of her own mind, and no amount of lecturing from Luci could change it.
“It’s probably after midnight, we should sleep so we can keep pace tomorrow,” Ira said after a moment.
Luci nodded even though it felt like she’d just swallowed a toad.
There was no denying things had changed between them, but there were still miles of unknown before them.
Ira stood and offered her his hand, and despite everything she was, she didn’t hesitate.
If there was one consistency in an ever-changing world, it was that her hand in his felt right.
The inn was silent without a soul in sight; everyone long since retired.
Every step felt like a mile long as she moved further from the memory of the night.
It’d been a quirk of hers that Brielle never teased her for, but still felt silly.
Whenever she was truly happy, she would find herself regretting the loss of the moment, and its inevitable lapse into memory.
Coveting every second felt like a dragon hoarding treasure.
If she had the power to stop time, she would live in a handful of memories.
Tonight was one of those memories. Music, dancing, and good company.
If she could bottle it all up, it would be one of her greatest treasures.
As they neared her room, Luci’s stomach decided to try acrobatics.
They’d spent time alone, but this felt different.
Like there was something in between them pulling them closer, even as her mind raced with a thousand reasons why that shouldn’t happen.
The only problem was that not one of those thousand reasons was louder than the want coursing through her.
“Goodnight, Lucinda,” Ira said, dipping his head as he opened the door for her.
Ever the prince.
Her hand itched to reach out and pull him in.
To feel that fire coursing through her when he kissed her on the mountain.
She wanted to see him undone and be the reason he forgot his crown and the expectations on his shoulders.
It would be easy. After all, for all his gentlemanly behavior, there was a hesitation as he began to pull the door shut after she stepped through the threshold.
It couldn’t be him, though. This would have to be her choice, and for all her walls and reasons, Luci let the door shut on her murmured goodnight. The moment the door shut, she cursed herself, listening for his retreating steps.
This was all new to her. This fire, this want. To have and want for only herself and not another person. A single act of selfishness that would change everything. Frustrated and pacing, Luci caught sight of herself in the mirror and stopped. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes bright. Alive.
There was more color and spark to her than she could remember. Running a hand down her neck slowly, she felt that fire burn low in her. That unfamiliar, but consuming want.
“Don’t be a coward,” she whispered to herself.
What if she knocked on his door, and everything she thought she understood was misconstrued?
She’d never survive the rejection. It would be the last want she ever knew.
After all, they had time. She had time. They’d go back tomorrow, save Brielle, she would officially withdraw from the engagement, then what?
Lord Treveon would say, Congratulations, Lucinda, so glad you fell in love with the prince and are getting married. What a great queen you will make.
Of course, and the king and queen will be ecstatic to see their son marrying a commoner, orphaned servant. Lady Annabeth and her father will certainly throw the first party in her honor. What could go wrong?
A half-crazed broken laugh shook from her, and she knew then what this was.
Why was her heart beating so fast, and why would the fire refuse to quell?
There was no more time. There was only tonight in a little inn in a little town.
Tomorrow, she would save Brielle, but she would lose Ira.
With their engagement dissolved, Brielle and Luci would return to Blythe, and everything would be exactly what it was before.
It was the same life she’d loved before with the person she loved best. She wouldn’t complain about it because she was lucky to have it, but before she went back, she wanted to know this one. This one wants.
One act of selfishness.
Without a second thought for virtue or consequences, Luci opened her door and let it shut without another breath. If she breathed, she would remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea. What if it made walking away harder? What if she embarrassed herself? What if, what if, what if.
What if she always regretted not taking this moment?
Two doors down from hers, she knocked on the door, far too rough and loud. Her chest felt like it might explode between her heart and her lack of air, but at midnight, she felt alive in the best way.
The second the door opened, she knew she hadn’t misread a single thing. His hair was mussed, and a red streak over his neck from where he’d been rubbing it told her all she needed to know.
“Lucinda,” his eyes flashed.
No regrets, just living for this moment.
Lucinda Blackthorn stepped over the threshold and grabbed Ira’s shirt, pulling him into her. Next thing she knew, her lips were on his, and the fire in her burned with need and anxiety, but she shouldn’t have worried.
Ira was quick to thread his hand into her hair while he pulled her closer with his hand pressed to her lower back.
Twisting her body, he kicked the door shut, and she was grateful he didn’t ask if she was sure because all she needed was this.
The way his tongue pressed against her lower lip, forcing her to open for him, and midnight she did.
A bolt of energy shot through her as he explored her mouth, claiming her as his. His to touch, his to hold, and she had never wanted to concede a battle more. It wasn’t the gentle, searching kiss they shared on the mountain, but a desperation, a hunger.
Teeth, lips, and tongues fighting for purchase, no sign of the respectful prince she knew, and she loved every second of it. When he gave her a moment of reprieve to run kisses down her neck, she gasped out a breath, but his name was in the air like a plea.
He groaned against her, and she was lost. If this was the only night they ever had, she wasn’t going to waste a single second. She would fit an entire lifetime into six hours, and that would be enough.
“Ira, please, I want this. I want you,” she said, breathless and panting.